Misery Loves Company
by Be A Warrior Casseau
Summary: Two former rangers are currently miserable in their lives. For Adam, love has betrayed him. In Tommy's case, physical pain has become a constant companion. Can they help each other overcome their misery? AU, Slash
1. Chapter 1

**Misery Loves Company**

**by**

**A Warrior's Prophet**

**Disclaimers****:** Standard disclaimers apply—Power Rangers are the property of Saban/Disney. Any characters you don't recognize are from our imaginations. No money has been made . . . blah, blah, blah.

**Summary****:** Two former rangers are currently miserable in their lives. For Adam, love has betrayed him. In Tommy's case, physical pain has become a constant companion. Can they help each other overcome their misery? Set 3 years after DinoThunder, AU, Slash

**Author's Notes****:** Okay, this is it! The big team-up between prophet144 and Be A Warrior Casseau!

**Chapter 1—Reconnecting**

God, will the paperwork ever end?! I've been sitting here filling out these moronic forms for an hour now. Is this why I became a teacher? Grumbling to myself, I glance at the corner of my classroom desk and spy the monumental stack of term papers that I have to start grading this weekend if I want to have any hope of finishing before the end of the semester.

Peace and quiet, that's what you wanted. Just a little peace and quiet. Yeah, but not mind-numbing tedium. Love the kids, hate the paperwork. I prop my head on one hand and remove my glasses with the other. Rubbing the bridge of my nose where the damn things have been pinching, I wonder again why I'm putting off the Lasik surgery. I wouldn't be wearing them at all if not for that freakin' accident . . .

My mind starts wandering back to a day just over 10 years ago. A day that I remember very little about, but it changed the course of my life. That race in Sonoma was the last of my short-lived racing career. Still photos start flashing through my mind like a slideshow. It's the extent of my recollections of that day . . . actually, of that _week_: myself in the mirror before going to the drivers' meeting, the car itself, Uncle John's face as he told me to be careful and have a good race, Jason's face as he told me the same thing, the green flag, some of the other cars . . . and then things get real fuzzy. Hard contact to the rear of the car—I can't control it—more contact to the side of the car throws me around violently—I see smoke and hear screeching tires—I see the wall coming up fast . . **.**

The memories that come next are terribly hard to deal with . . . if not for Jase . . .I don't know what . . . a cold chill runs up my spine even as a strong vibration comes from the general area of my waist—it jars me from my thoughts. I shake my head to clear it and look down in the direction of my cell phone. I guess I forgot to turn the ringer back on after class ended over an hour ago. Pulling it out of the hipcase, I can't help but notice that my hand is shaking. I glance at the display--don't recognize that number. I'll just let it go to voicemail. I put the phone down on the desk and go back to resting my strained eyes. I gotta think about something else. A couple of minutes later I'm up pacing across the front of the classroom, massaging my stiff lower back. Man, this hurts. The meds are wearing off too fast, but there's only so much I can take and still be able to teach.

Staring out the window, I briefly watch the soccer team warming up down on the field. What was said this morning at the staff meeting concerning them? I search my admittedly leaky memory for a minute. Oh yeah, Coach Gibson is leaving at the end of the school year and the board is looking for a replacement. I hear my phone go off again. Popular this afternoon, aren't I? As I pick it up, I see that it's the same number as before. Oh well . . . what the hell . . .

"Dr. Oliver," I answer.

"Hey Dr. O—you finally answered! I thought I was gonna have to come over there and rough you up!"

Familiar voice . . . familiar voice . . .

"Kira?"

"Yep. You sound surprised. I told you I'd call when I got back from the mission."

"So it's over . . . how'd it go? Everybody okay?"

"Oh yeah—things went great. It wasn't exactly a piece of cake, but we did pretty well. Especially since we'd never worked together before. How are you—you doin' okay?"

She's overprotective. "I'm okay—don't worry. What about Hartford? Is he as competent as he seems?"

"I do worry and you know it. As for Mr. Hartford, yeah, the man's a certified genius. 'Course he's no Dr. O—science teacher extraordinaire, living legend, and Grade 'A' hottie."

"Kira . . ."

"What?! You're not my teacher anymore and I _am_ an adult, remember? Just statin' the obvious . . ." Somethin' else is obvious from that statement, but I'm not bringing it up now. I can hear her grinning through the phone.

"You're sweet." I hope she can't hear me blushing.

"Anyway, I ran into one of your old friends—he was on the team that the Sentinel Knight put together. You could've knocked me over with a feather when I saw the uniform of the original team."

"Original team? Really? Who?" Jase, Rocky, Adam . . . Billy? No, wasn't Jase—I just talked to him.

"Yep—he's an awesome fighter and a really nice guy. Couldn't get used to me calling you 'Doctor'!"

"You gonna tell me who it is or do I have to guess?" She's playin' with me.

"Ummm . . . well, let's see—cutie pie, dark-haired, about your age—it's amazing you guys can still fight . . ."

"Hey! Us old guys can outdo you anytime . . ."

"Uh huh . . . okay." She stops and giggles. "Sorry—you know I gotta give you a hard time."

"I know, I know. So tell me already—the hints you gave could be anybody."

"Adam Park—said he'd just recently moved back to Angel Grove."

"Adam?!" I can't hide the excitement in my voice. Jase had told me that he was back on this coast, but I hadn't had a chance to go visit him yet. I haven't seen him in years.

I can tell she's grinning as she says, "That's right—in the flesh. I hope you don't mind, but I gave him your number. He said he had it at home, but he didn't bring it with him—guess he wanted to put it into his cell. Anyway, he said he was going to get in touch with you soon. He hasn't called already, has he?"

"No, not yet. Thanks for doing that, though—I'd love to talk to him. He's been on the east coast for years and we kinda lost touch."

"That's what he said. Should be calling you soon, I guess."

"Awesome. Thanks, Kira. So, you gonna stop by and see your old teacher sometime soon? I'd love to hear about the mission."

"Absolutely. I'd love that. I'll call you once I get settled and we'll set something up, deal?"

"Deal. Take care of yourself, Sweetie."

"I will—you too. Bye."

I close the phone and put it back in its case on my belt. Adam Park—Frogboy himself. Damn, I haven't seen him since right after college. Wonder what he's been up to.

I look back at my desk and remember the paperwork. I move back over to my desk, determined to get this crap for the school board finished and get the hell outta here. It's getting late and I just wanna go home, have dinner and a couple of drinks . . . maybe more.

_______________________

Flopping onto the new overstuffed couch and putting my feet up on the equally new coffee table, I pour myself another long drink. Now that I don't have teenagers all over my house all the time, I was finally able to refurnish the living room with some nice stuff.

Yep—great new furniture, no one eating all my food anymore, all that great peace and quiet that I wanted, no monsters to fight . . . just me and . . . well, just me and . . . whichever bottle I choose out of the liquor cabinet. I drink too much these days—I know it—no denying it. It started out helping me relax. Then it was to help ease the pain in my back and legs. The last time my powers were ripped away it really did a number on my body. Now . . . I'm not sure. But hey, there's no one around to give me flack about it, so . . . I turn up the glass and finish off my fifth drink of the night, loving the familiar burn in my throat.

Damn, I gotta start on those term papers. I slowly push myself up and woozily make my way to the table where I dropped my briefcase. Pulling out part of the thick stack, I choose a couple that I'm fairly sure will be easy to grade. Now, where's my glasses?

Three hours later, a loud noise from the TV jars me from my dream. I open my eyes, finding myself on the couch covered in essays, red pens, and remote controls. Why do I have four different remotes?

I attempt to sit up and straighten things out, but my body doesn't want to cooperate. Shit . . . I'm gettin' old. I feel 30 years older than I am. I massage my back for a couple of minutes and stretch a bit. Finally able to get up, I clean up a little and head for bed. One more day till the weekend—I can make it.

_________________________

The final bell of the day and the week—thank God. Now I can get outta here for a few days. Glad Monday's a holiday.

After taking care of a couple of things in the office, I head out quickly before anyone can stop me with something _else_ they want to throw off on me. I appreciate the fact that I'm so competent, but damn . . . I have enough on my plate.

Just as I'm walking out to the parking lot, my cell goes off. Another unfamiliar number. Adam—it might be Adam. I nearly drop it trying to flip it open with my thumb.

"Hello?"

"Tommy?"

"Yeah . . ."

"Hey, it's Adam. How are ya, man?!"

"Hey! Not too bad. How 'bout you?"

"Can't complain, I guess. I suppose Kira told you she gave me your number. Jase had written it down for me, but I couldn't find it."

"Yeah, I talked to her yesterday. It's so good to hear from you—what's been goin' on? How long you been back in Angel Grove?"

"Not long—nearly a month. I guess Jase told you I opened a new dojo downtown, right?"

"Yeah, he said he was helping you out some. Things going well with that?"

"Pretty well. Thanks in part to Jase and Rocky teaching free of charge for a little while. I was surprised at how fast the word got around. But then again, Angel Grove is hardly a booming metropolis. You need to come down and check it out."

"I plan on it." Jase had told me about Adam's marriage breaking up and that was what prompted him to move back home. I want to ask, but . . . not now. He doesn't really sound like himself.

"I could hardly believe it when Kira told me that one of the guys on the mission was wearing the uniform of the original team. How'd it feel to be back in the saddle?"

"Good. Really good. It was what I needed."

I toss my things in the jeep and lean against the door to continue talking. "So when can we get together, man?" This guy needs some cheerin' up. Then again, I guess so do I. Misery loves company, right?

"Well, I'm free on the weekends. How 'bout you?"

"Me too. Hey, I know it's short notice, but I've got a long weekend this weekend—no school on Monday. Why don't you come up and stay at the house for a couple of days?"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously. It'll be a blast. I'll show you around my little town and we'll go out to eat or somethin'. Come on."

"Well . . . if you're sure it's okay."

"Yeah, I'm sure. It's just me. Who do you want me to ask if it's okay, the squirrels?"

A laugh—good sign. "Okay. When you want me there?"

"Well, it takes about an hour and a half to drive from Angel Grove and it's . . . 4:00 now. I'll see you at, say, 6? Just in time for dinner."

"Okay, you got yourself a deal. Now, how do you get there?"

I take a few minutes to give him directions and then climb in my jeep and burn out of the parking lot. I hope I can make the place presentable in two hours.

_____________________

After putting away the extra food I had stopped to get on my way home and cleaning the kitchen a little, I take a break on the couch for a minute, resisting the urge to fix myself a drink. No . . . got too much work to do. Still gotta freshen up the guest room. No one's used it since Jase was here a month ago.

A lot more dusting, straightening, bathroom cleaning, bed making, and crap hiding later I think I've got it whipped. 20 'til 6. Okay, make yourself presentable. You haven't seen him in years—don't want to look like a bum.

I pull out some black jeans, a black tank top, and a nice white shirt with black designs on the shoulders and sleeves. Wish I could wear this stuff to school—I hate dress shirts and ties. Pulling on the clean clothes, except for the shirt, and putting in my little hoop earrings I go to brush my teeth, shave, and do something with my hair. It's starting to get too long to spike up. I need to either get it cut or let it grow out again. Bet Randall would love that.

As I'm primping in the mirror, I suddenly realize that I'm getting nervous. It's Adam—Frogboy. Why be uptight? You haven't seen him in a while, but damn . . . he's one of your oldest friends. Yeah, one of your oldest friends that you've always been somewhat attracted to. Memories start flooding my mind while I'm trying to do something with this accursed hair.

_Flashback--Junior year of college_

"_Hey guys, hurry up! I'll be in the café next door," Jason yelled as he left the locker room. _

_Adam and I had taken longer with our sparring session than we'd anticipated, so we were later getting into the showers than Jase. He was already dressed and ready to leave._

"_Okay, we'll be there in a few minutes." Turning to Adam, I said, "He has a big test tomorrow that he needs to study for, I guess that's why he's anxious to get home."_

"_No problem. I'll be done in a couple of minutes," he said and walked out of the shower stall as naked as the day he was born._

_I tried my best not to be obvious, but I'm sure my eyes gave me away. _

'_Damn,' I thought. 'Look at that . . .' It's not like I hadn't seen him shirtless or in boxers occasionally —I mean, we were roommates—but he didn't tend to walk around the apartment without a stitch on. He wasn't like Jason. Matter of fact, that was the first time I'd seen him in the buff since we'd showered together at the Power Chamber. Boy, had he filled out nicely! Especially in the legs and ass department . . . _

_I had to take the towel I'd been using to dry my hair and wrap it around my waist to hide my obvious interest in his body. I mean, I wasn't looking to pursue anything with Adam—at the time, Jase and I were trying yet again to make a go of things—God, how many times did we try?—but he was kinda hard to ignore standing there all dripping wet and looking good enough to eat. Anyway, I don't think I ever said anything to him about that incident, but I never forgot it either. And that wasn't the only time . . . _

Just as I'm beginning to reminisce further, the doorbell rings. Okay, here we go—don't act like a goof. I start down the steps and then go back and grab my shirt. Don't want to shock him with the tattoos just yet. Getting to the front door, I stop and take a deep breath. Come on, chill out. I put on a big smile and open the door.

"Adam! You made it!" My smile grows as I see my old friend on my doorstep. His eyes widen a bit. I step forward and give him a big hug which he returns—if a little cautiously.

"Tommy? Hey man . . . you look good. Different, but good." Well, he's smiling—I guess that means it's a compliment.

I chuckle at that statement. All my old pals say that. I guess no one believed I'd ever cut my hair. Wait till he sees the body art.

"Well, don't stand in the door. Get in here!" He steps inside and puts his bag down, glancing around a little tentatively.

"Nice house. You've been here for a while now, haven't you?"

"Yep, a few years. Have any trouble finding the place?"

"No, not at all. You do live off the beaten path though, don'tcha?"

"Yeah. I like having no neighbors, though. It was especially nice when I had the rangers runnin' around here. Less chance of having to explain."

"No kiddin'!"

"Want something to drink?"

"Sure, thanks."

"Come on into the kitchen."

After pouring some sodas, we head into the living room and plop on the sofa. I can't help but notice that he's a little uneasy—so am I. I also can't help noticing how he's changed. He's grown up well—thicker and more muscular than he was even in college, but still with those kind eyes and nice smile. He looks tired, though.

I'm tryin' to think of what to say while avoiding the subject of his failed marriage. I'm dyin' to ask, but I don't want to upset him.

"Kira tells me the mission went well. What do you think?"

"Oh, it was good. Nice to be useful again. I'll tell you somethin'—Kira fights well, like a veteran. That Ptera scream of hers is . . . umm . . . shattering. I could tell she'd been trained by you."

"Really? Well, she's a good student—hard worker, smart, eager to learn. Those kind are always easy to teach."

"I agree. My good students at the dojo are the same way."

After a lot more discussion of the mission, I just can't put it off any longer.

"So Adam, I hate to bring it up, but . . . what happened with you and Brooke?"

I watch as he sighs and looks down at the glass in his hands. Now I wish I hadn't asked. "Nevermind . . . it's okay if you don't wanna talk about it."

"No . . . it's just that it's still hard to deal with. I caught her cheating on me."

"You're kidding . . . how could she do that?!" That little bitch . . .

"I don't know, but she did. I packed up then and there and moved out—didn't even hang around for her pitiful attempt at an explanation.

"What explanation could there be? I'm so sorry, man."

"Yeah, me too." He pauses and steadies himself. "So I stayed out there for about six months—just until the divorce was final and I'd figured out what I was gonna do. What about you? Why isn't the famous 'Dr. O.' married or at least livin' in sin with someone?"

At least he's smiling. "Good question. I don't really have an answer except that I just haven't found the right person."

He gives me a sly look. "Still swingin' both ways or was that just a college thing?"

I can't help but be surprised that he'd just come off the hip with that one. I have to laugh. "Yeah, I'm still bi. That hasn't changed."

It's a little weird to hear myself say that. _Very few_ people in Reefside or Angel Grove know that about me—only my parents and a few others.

"I figure I don't miss anything that way." Good, that got another smile. "What about you? I seem to clearly remember you yourself 'testing the waters' back in college." He looks surprised.

"Umm . . . well, I haven't dated since my marriage broke up—male or female. Haven't been interested."

"Understandable." Answers my question, though.

All at once, I notice him staring at me—my chest to be specific. I look down thinking I must have something on my shirt. "What?"

"Is that part of a tattoo I see?"

Observant boy. I wondered how long that would take. "Yeah. I've kinda started collecting 'em. Wanna see?"

He looks intrigued. "Sure. How many you got?"

"Lots." I stand up and unbutton my long-sleeved shirt. "Ready?"

I grin at him. He grins back and nods. Pulling off the shirt and tossing it on the couch, I watch as his mouth falls open.

"Ho-leee . . . when did you do all that?!"

"Over the last few years—I've had nothing better to do," I laugh. I'm being serious, though. He examines my arms and shoulders which are nearly covered in Japanese characters, koi, a flaming yinyang, a falcon, and some Native stuff.

"Wanna see some more?" I grin.

"There's more?!"

"Oh yeah . . ." I pull off my tank top to reveal a big green, white, red, and black Chinese dragon on my chest that goes from my right pec, down my side, and wraps around to my back where it loops around and ends on the small of my back. It actually covers a lot of ranger-related scars. What is that look on his face?

"Keeping in shape I see—you've bulked up, haven't you?"

"Yeah, some. I workout a lot—weight training, mostly. You look thicker yourself."

"Must be age. Have you seen Rocky lately?"

"It's been a little while."

"He's filled out a lot too. We've all thickened up, except for Jase—he's always been a bull!"

True, true.

When he's finished examining my tats—with his eyes _and_ fingers—he says, "Shit Tommy, that's alotta ink!"

"Yep—and alotta money too."

"Any more?"

I nod. "On my legs—show 'em to ya later. Right now, let's go eat—I'm starvin'!"

"Me too—where we goin'?"

We discuss restaurant options as I redress and then head out to the sushi bar that we had agreed on. As we drive along, I point out some of the sights of Reefside. It's a nice little town—bigger than Angel Grove, but not so big that I can't stand it. Having lived outside the city since I was 15, I really prefer the smaller places. When I go visit my relatives in LA, it tears my nerves up.

"I'll show you Reefside High tomorrow. It sorta reminds me of our old high school—about the same size. Pretty good sports teams, too."

"Decent soccer team?"

"Yeah, they're really good. As a matter of fact, the coach got recruited by a college, so he's leaving at the end of the year. You still play?"

"Oh, just pick-up games in the park."

"You should meet Connor when he comes home for the summer—he's a star forward. He was my red ranger."

"Oh yeah, Kira warned, uh . . . _told_ me about him. Heard a lot about the team, including their black ranger."

I glance over at him and grin. "Oh?"

"Yeah. It was cute to watch Kira's eyes light up when she talked about 'her Dr. O.'. She told everyone about her mentor/teacher/friend who was quote, 'the most legendary ranger ever' unquote," he says with a big grin while fluttering his eyelashes.

I feel my face heating up. "Oh stop it."

"Seriously. She got everyone's curiosity up, so she and I together had to give the whole team—us old guys and the Operation Overdrive gang—a history lesson about you."

"Oh my God. You're not really serious."

" 'Fraid I am. The kid from the SPD team, Bridge, was from about 20 years in the future and he said that he'd studied about you at the academy."

My mouth falls open. I have no idea what to say to that. He's gotta see how bad I'm blushing.

"Sorry man—just thought you'd like to know that stuff."

"No, it's flattering—just a tad embarrassing."

"Kira's got a thing for you, you know that right?"

"Umm . . . yeah . . . but I'm pretty sure she knows I'm too old for her."

"I don't know . . ."

Change the subject, change the subject.

"Okay, I'll lay off," he chuckles.

"Good. Here's the restaurant."

________________________

After stuffing our faces and knocking back enough sake to pickle a fish, we're both relaxing more. We talk over old times, laugh at stupid stuff we used to do, and just generally get reacquainted. As we're leaving, I get a good idea.

"Let's go by Hayley's before she closes."

"Hayley? Who's that?"

I explain briefly about my good friend and team genius then tell him about the Cyberspace.

"It's the closest thing to a Youth Center that we have here. Kinda reminds me of the old place, though."

Getting out of the jeep, my back catches as I try to straighten up. "Uhhh . . . damn," I groan and grab my lower back.

"You okay?" He looks worried as he comes around to help, holding me by my waist and arm.

"I'm okay, just a little back pain. Let's go in so I can sit down."

We walk inside and glance around to see who's hanging out on a Friday night. Several of my students wave and speak.

"Popular, aren'tcha?" he grins.

"Hayley! How's it goin', Sis?" I say as we approach the bar. She looks up and smiles.

"Hey T! Fancy seeing you here on a weekend."

"Well, we went out to eat and thought we'd stop by."

"So . . . introduce me," she says smiling.

"I was gonna . . ." I grin. This is Adam Park, one of my best friends from high school. Adam, this is Hayley, owner of this fine establishment." Turning back to the redhead, "Adam's been with me through lots of colours." That's code for 'he's been on multiple ranger teams with me'.

The light dawns in her eyes. "Ah, I see. Nice to meet such a 'colourful' friend. What'll you handsome gentlemen have?"

"Just a cup of something strong," I say and wink at her.

"Only coffee here, you know that. How about some of my new Kenya blend?"

"That'll do. I had a lot of sake at the sushi bar anyway."

"Adam? What about you?"

"The same will be fine, thank you."

As Hayley goes to get our selected beverages, Adam gives me a concerned look. "How's your back? You okay?"

"Just gettin' old, I guess." I shoot him a half grin.

"Yeah, right. What's really wrong? Jase told me you've been having some problems."

"Did he? Well, I'll tell you about it when we get back to the house. Don't worry, I'm okay." Although I'd have to say that it'd be nice to have someone worry for a change. Okay, that wasn't fair—Jase worries about me, I know that. But he's not here . . .

"Alright, if you say so."

A few of my female students come over while we're having our coffee and ask about their term papers. Sorry, no grading papers this weekend, ladies. I think it's just a cover anyway.

"So Dr. O. . . you look nice. Why don't you wear stuff like that to school?" a young lady named Kellie asks. There we go—knew something like that was behind the 'visit'. They're not _that_ interested in their grades.

"Principal Randall would never go for it. Gotta look professional at school, ya know," I answer, smiling. "But thank you."

"Too bad. Not that you don't look good at school, it's just . . ." the young blonde trails off and blushes. "Umm, well . . . see you in class!" she says as they turn to leave.

Adam grins and giggles. "Quite a fan club you got there, buddy."

I shake my head. "Oh shut up. I'm sure you get the same thing at the dojo. 'Oh Master Park, would you show me that again?'" I say in my best feminine voice and touch his arm gently.

We both laugh. "Okay maybe . . . but not like you."

"I just have more students than you do, that's all," I giggle.

Finishing our coffee, we head back to my house to just hang out and catch up. Settling in on the sofa, he brings up the injury again.

"So tell me what's wrong with your back. Jase said it was nerve damage, is that right?"

"Yeah. Hayley's hypothesis is that I've had my powers either taken, changed, or stripped from me so many times that it's damaged my nervous system. You just happened to catch me on a bad day. I'm not usually this bad." Actually, this isn't too bad—it gets much worse.

His face is full of worry, concern, and a little shock.

"She keeps an eye on me and charts its progression. Wanna see our lab? It used to be our command center."

"Yeah! Where is it?" That seems to have diverted his attention from my malady for the moment. Good.

"Come on . . . I'll show you," I say with a big grin as I carefully get up and walk toward the trap door.

"Open sesame," I say with a laugh and hit the opening mechanism. The door rises up out of the floor and Adam laughs.

"Are you a science teacher or Batman?!"

"Eh . . . a little of both, I guess."

We descend the steps—me a little more carefully than he--and he at once gets that face that most people exhibit when they see this place for the first time. After Zeltrax trashed it, we redid most of it, upgrading and expanding some of the systems. We can still keep an eye on the city if we want to, but it's mostly used for research now. That and I expanded my personal gym.

"Who built all of this?"

"Actual construction? Me and Jase did. Hayley built all the electronic systems along with the computers."

Walking over to a seemingly solid wall, I find the hidden button.

"Watch this," I say with a grin and press said button causing a ten foot wide portion of the wall to slide back revealing a secret room. "Check this out—my own little personal ranger museum."

Adam moves through the door and gasps at some of the stuff in the room. I have all of my old morphers, a few uniforms, and assorted weapons and things. I even have pieces of the main control room of the Power Chamber.

"How did . . . where . . ." he stops.

I burst out laughing. "I used to go dig through the remains of the Command Center/Power Chamber all the time. I brought back anything that was salvageable and would fit!"

He runs his fingers over the old familiar consoles. "Billy would love to see this!"

I nod.

"Hey, you know what? I've got Alpha 6 at my place now. I didn't have the heart to put him back in that crate after he helped us out. He'd love it here! He could help you and Hayley out."

"That would be great! Not to mention Hayley could use the help. I'm not the techie that she is. I'm good with fossils and stuff, but a rocket scientist--I ain't."

"And she is?"

"Among other things."

"So, you wanna bring him up here?"

"Yeah, definitely."

After he noses around for a little while longer, we go back upstairs and I give him the little tour.

"Nice place, Tommy. Don't you get lonely out here by yourself though?" Absolutely.

"Sometimes, but I like the peace and quiet. Besides, I can lay out in the sun completely naked and no one is any wiser."

"Do that a lot, do ya?" he grins.

"Eh . . . not a lot, but it's been known to happen."

"Remind me to call before I drop by," he says with a smirk.

"Okay . . . hey! What are you tryin' to say? I happen to have a pretty nice body, thank you very much."

"If you say so, I'm just not sure I want to see you in the buff."

"Your loss . . . and it wouldn't be the first time." I wink playfully and go to make myself a drink. "Want something?"

"Sure. Whatever you're having is fine."

I pour two scotches, handing him one and head for the couch. I kick off my shoes and pull off my overshirt, making myself comfortable.

"Make yourself at home, bro. Mi casa su casa."

"Alright, right after I use your restroom."

"You know where it is."

By the time he returns, I'm stretched out on the couch, trying to ease the tension in my poor back. He comes over and gives me a worried look.

"I can massage it for you if you want."

"I'll take you up on that later. Just relax right now." I find myself wondering how anyone could be mean to, let alone cheat on, someone as wonderful as my friend here.

A few more drinks in him and Frogboy begins to open up a lot more.

"You know what really sucks about my marriage ending like it did?"

Apart from the obvious . . . "What's that?"

"I really, sincerely loved that bitch and look at what she did."

"Did you know the guy?"

"I'd seen him before. He works in the same office as she does."

I look him right in the eyes. "You didn't actually catch them in the act, did ya?" Please say no.

"No—I'd probably be in jail right now if I had. No, I found a bunch of emails and IMs on her laptop. Not to mention unexplainable charges on my Visa—restaurants I hadn't been to and hotels I had never slept in." His face becomes very ugly when he says that. Poor guy.

I shake my head. "Damn. I'm sorry, bro. You deserve so much better than that."

"Yeah . . . I think I do too. Maybe someday . . ."

"You'll find someone, don't worry. Just give yourself time."

He changes the subject. Just as well, I guess.

"So, you said you'd show me the rest of your tattoos. Let's see 'em."

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours . . ."

He grins. "I only have two."

With a little trouble, he stands and pulls off his t-shirt, tossing it onto the chair with a grand gesture. He's feelin' that scotch—I can tell. So am I.

"Here ya go, my measly two little tattoos."

He has a wide tribal band encircling his right bicep and one on his left shoulder blade that is his name in Korean. It has some nice Asian-inspired decoration around it.

"Nice . . . very nice," I say as I examine them in detail, rubbing his bicep in the process. "Gonna get some more?"

"Probably. Will you introduce me to your artist?"

"Absolutely. Okay, I promised so here ya go." I unbutton my jeans and push them to the floor with a little difficulty. Damn back. Kicking them off, I slowly straighten up and show him the big samurai on my left thigh and the native design that runs down the side of my right calf and ends on top of my foot.

"Wow, the colour in these is so vivid. Are they new?"

"Not really. They're about two or three years old. My newest is all the colour in my dragon. I had the outline done first and then gradually got it filled in as my finances would allow. Us teachers don't get paid enough, ya know."

"That's what I hear."

Two hours later, we've just about talked ourselves out for the night. Both yawning and stretching, we decide to turn in. Pulling myself up slowly, I nearly stumble as a combination of back pain and too much scotch come together to ruin my balance.

"Whoa, easy there," he says and grabs my arm to steady me.

"Thanks. Damn back."

We start up the stairs and as much as I hate to admit it, I'm having trouble walking. Usually when it gets like this, I sleep on the couch to avoid having to tackle the steps, but I'm not doing that with a guest in the house.

"Need some help?" he offers.

"Ummm . . . yeah. That'd probably be a good idea."

"Okay. That offer for a massage still stands. You interested?"

"You're tired—you don't have to do that."

"I don't mind a bit. I think you could use one, bro. Come on, let's get you in bed."

Yep, really great guy. Brooke, you're a fool.

Finally making it up the stairs and into my room, I sit down gingerly on the bed and try to pull my tank top off. Nope--back too stiff. I look at Adam with a somewhat pitiful expression.

He shakes his head slightly and gives me a concerned look. "Here, let me help."

He removes my shirt leaving me in only boxers and tells me to lay down on my stomach. I try it, but it hurts too bad.

"Sorry. One side or the other is all I can manage."

"Okay, we'll start there." Kneeling on my bed in his t-shirt and boxer shorts, he begins working his fist into the tight muscles of my lower back. It's not real comfortable at first, but I can feel the knots loosening.

"Mmmm . . . your mom taught you well. That's really helping." Mrs. Park is one helluva massage therapist.

"I thought it might. Let me know when you think you can lie on your stomach."

I nod, trying to relax as much as possible. After several more minutes, I try successfully to lie flat on my belly so that he can reach my entire back.

"Ahhh . . . damn," I groan as his strong hands knead and push into my sore, tight muscles. "That's wonderful."

He chuckles a little and continues to try and make me feel better.

"I owe you for this," I tell him.

"No you don't."

Once he has worked my back over, he turns his attention to the tight muscles in my legs. As I feel his powerful hands grasping and kneading my thighs, I also feel a definite reaction in another part of my anatomy. Oh well, I'm lying on my stomach anyway. If he turns me over we might have a problem.

Thankfully, he moves back up to my shoulders before I embarrass myself. My eyelids feel like they weigh twenty pounds each. I know I'm drifting off, but I can't stop myself.

"G'night Adam," I try to mumble. No clue whether he understood me or not.

_________________

_Author's Notes: Please let us know what you think by hitting that little Review button down there!! We'd very much appreciate it!!_


	2. Notice

Hey guys! Just a note to let you all know that chapter 2 has been posted under the joint account that prophet144 and I set up. Either look for "Misery Loves Company" or look up the author's name A Warrior's Prophet. All future updates will be posted under that name. So head over there and read the new chapter! Don't forget to review, okay?! Please?? Thanks!


End file.
